


Sing Me to Sleep

by SittingOnACornflake



Series: Plotless Starrison Fluff [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kissing, M/M, aww that's a tag, i'm baffled this is also a tag i love you all, starrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SittingOnACornflake/pseuds/SittingOnACornflake
Summary: George and Ringo are watching a movie but Ringo is really tired.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Series: Plotless Starrison Fluff [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169975
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Sing Me to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Have a nice day or night (and year!!!)

Ringo blinks.

How long can that simple movement take, even if he's on his way to fall asleep right where he is? How fast can George be compared to him?

He’ll probably never get the answer to that fleeting thought, but the time he's taken to close his eyes and open them again has been enough.

George has moved faster than the light behind Ringo’s eyelids, and now he's not comfortably sprawled on the couch next to him anymore but sitting in his lap instead. Ringo's arms automatically close around him; a contented sigh escapes him. George is a real lightweight, but having him sitting like that is one of Ringo's favourite things. George is simply there; yet it grounds him more effectively than any gravitational attraction blather.

“Glad to see you here,” Ringo yawns.

George smiles back, bringing a hand to Ringo’s face and brushing a strand of – rather long, unruly – hair behind his ear.

“You’re falling asleep,” George comments.

Ringo struggles to keep his eyes open, succeeds temporarily by planting his eyes in George’s. He nods. “True.”

“You’re gonna miss the end of the movie,” George goes on.

As much as he’s tired, Ringo can't help but chuckle at that. “What about you? You're not even facing the telly.”

George shrugs lightly, not even bothering to turn back towards the screen behind him. Ringo wouldn’t be surprised if George, just like him, had forgotten to pay attention he’d been watching it in the first place. It's not that good anyway, and it has become even less captivating since they ran out of popcorn half an hour ago.

“Let me guess,” Ringo drawls, his voice drowsy despite his efforts to wake up. “I’m more interesting than that movie?”

George leans forward and kisses him as an answer. It's a chaste and sweet kiss; it's a popcorn kiss. Ringo kisses him back lazily, letting one of his hands travel up to tangle it in George's hair. It has grown so long, much longer than his. Ringo likes it that way. It’s incredible all those things you can do once you’re free from that Beatle image.

“You’re better than any movie,” George finally smiles when he breaks the kiss, letting his forehead rest against Ringo’s.

They both chuckle in the dark as the movie goes on without waiting for them. Ringo pecks George's lips as a thank you. Although the younger man said it with an ironic tone, Ringo perfectly knows it's not – not only – a mere joke. They're not entirely recreating the dialogues of that romantic movie they're supposed to be watching. George said it casually, as if it meant nothing to him, and yet his eyes are searching Ringo's, saying things much less ironic and much more serious. It's a joke and it isn't. It's the truth too, whether they’ll admit it or not.

“Wanna go to bed?” George then asks him.

Slumber is slowly taking over Ringo; making his limbs feel heavy. It would be better to go now, but being there in their living room feels so nice. To be honest, it's sitting there with George that feels nice, too nice to move, even if it’s to cuddle in their bed. That bed will be cold, no way.

“Five more minutes?” he finally answers.

He feels more than he sees George chuckle, but his boyfriend doesn’t question it. He merely curls up against him, letting his head rest in the crook of his neck.

“I’ll wake you up in five minutes,” George whispers against his skin, making Ringo shiver.

There, as the two protagonists of their movie are riding nowhere in a stolen car – or has he misunderstood? –, his eyelids flutter close. His body is slumped against the couch, pleasantly squeezed between the soft cushions and George.

He wants to tell him he loves him. He hasn’t said it since yesterday – not directly, so now would be the perfect time.

George is faster once more, however. He beats him to it with that sleepy voice that Ringo loves and that makes the words _love you_ sound like a song he’s singing only for him, a song to put him to sleep.

“Me too, but don’t fall asleep. I need you to wake me up in five minutes,” Ringo says with a chuckle.

He’ll say it first tomorrow, he promises himself. Right now, he’s feeling himself drift away. He can feel George’s heartbeat, his breath on his neck and the warmth of his body pressed against his.

Before finally drifting off, completely stopping to pay attention to the sounds coming from the television, he decides whether the movie ends well or not doesn’t really matter. His and George’s movie feels like a happy ever after one anyway, although they’d better not spend the whole night on the couch.


End file.
